Odd Ones Out
by Rixer
Summary: Damian moves to Bathory after his Dad loses his job in New York City. He has enough trouble fitting in, but something keeps nagging at him..  There's something strange about Vladimir Tod. Damian's POV, Tenth Grade Bleeds time period.
1. Bathory

So, this is my second FanFic, never finished my first one :/  
This chapter is just a bit of an introduction to the story.  
The song is Odd One by Sick Puppies.  
Enjoy!

-Rixerx64

"Turn that shit off already!" my dad yelled, referred to the love of my life, my purple iPod Nano, or more specifically, the music coming from it. Ironically enough, I didn't hear a word he said because of the volume of the lyrics pounding in to my ears, drowning out the sound of my three little siblings bickering non-stop.

Joey, seven, was annoying Peter, five, while he was trying to concentrate on his oh-so-important game of Mario Kart on his Nintendo DS. Peter, of course, was screaming bloody murder and trying to ward off Joey's taunts while still playing his game.

Sarah, my personal favorite, was quietly reading her book, seemingly undeterred by her bickering brothers.  
Good girl, I thought. Only ten years old, and already into high school literature. Apparently she and I are the only ones in my family with an ounce of sense.

"I said, TURN IT OFF!" screamed my dad once more. This time, I actually heard him. I gave him a short glance and turned away, reaching for my iPod, as if to turn it off. Turning up the volume and flipping him off at the same time, I readjusted myself in my seat so that I didn't have to look at him. Before closing my eyes, I flipped my iPod over to the back where I had etched my name into it so many months ago. I slid my fingers over the crude _Damian _that I had felt so many times before. Dad was so pissed when he found out that I did that… But then again, who gives a shit what he thinks? Finally, I closed my eyes…

The lyrics were like a lullaby to me, lulling me at last into a deep sleep, void of annoying fathers and little brothers. A sleep full of nothing but the music I loved.

_Odd one, you're never alone__  
__I'm here and I will reflect you__  
__Both of us basically unattached__  
__To anything or anyone unless we're pretending__  
__You live your life in your head__  
__Some call it imagination__  
__I'd rather focus instead on anything except__  
__What I'm feeling__  
__What I'm feeling__  
__Odd one..._

Unfortunately, there comes a time in every sleep that you must wake up… Well, most of the time anyway.

This time came for me when we hit a particularly nasty bump in the road. Maybe that problem wouldn't have occurred if my dad wasn't such a cheap ass, and gotten a new car after, say, fifteen years? But no, he has to keep his old, beat up, suspension fucked, Chevy pickup.

As we hit said bump, my head just happened to smack into the window and tear my out of my wonderful sleep. My earbuds fell out at the same time.

Perfect.

"Good, you're up. We're nearly there," Dad told me.

"There" was a small town called Bathory. It wasn't too small, but much smaller than the millions of people I was used to in New York City.

A week ago, I found out we were moving to this small shit town because my dad got fired from his job in a car factory in New York. He had a friend, Dan, who lived in Bathory and said the town was in need of a mechanic, so he seized the opportunity and bolted our whole family out of New York.

You might be wondering where my mom is in all this. The answer: dead.

She was brave, defiant, beautiful, warm, everything that a mom is. And why is she dead you ask? Because some piece of shit mugger needed a bit of extra cash, but my mom didn't want to give it up.

We pulled up to our new house/my dad's business (I told you, he's cheap as fuck) and I wrapped my earbuds around my iPod, putting it and my phone in my pocket. I would have to help my dad move everything in.

I looked up and down the street, taking in the neighborhood. I saw some kids around Joey's age playing in their driveway, a girl swinging on a swing, and all that other neighborly shit that goes on.

Then I saw a large brick building and realized that it was a school, probably the high school. That's also the moment I realized that I'd be starting school in the morning, knowing not a single person except Dan's son Tom, whom I'd never met.

So, how's your life?


	2. The Scary Crowd

Hey guys I know it's been literally MONTHS since I last updated this, and I'm so so so so so so sorry to everyone who was waiting for the update. I kinda just lost inspiration (this always happens to me). But I re-read the Vlad Tod series and remembered this story. I looked at it, and I had nothing but positive reviews so I decided to continue this. So enjoy! And please, please, review! Tell me what you liked, didn't like, suggestions, or just general comments. Thanks!  
-Rixer

I brushed back a lock of my dark brown hair as I approached the steps to my new Hell: Bathory High. I flinched as a blinding blob of pink ran past me and into the waiting arms of… a guy that shouldn't get hugged by that kind of girl. He was wearing a black shirt, black skinny jeans, and black and white checkered shoes. You've got one guess at his hair color.

I shook my head inwardly. Small towns are really weird.

I climbed the stairs to the school and walked through the front doors. I located the office and got my locker combination and schedule and emptied my books into my locker. I got some weird glances, because school was already in full swing. It was February, and judging by the size of the school, new students were pretty rare.

I closed my locker and nearly jumped out of my skin. A boy dressed entirely in black was leaning up against the locker next to mine.

"Hiya. I'm Sprat. You're new here aren't you? I've never seen you before. What's your name? We don't get a lot of new students here. It's pretty small. Where did you live before Bathory? What kind of music do you like?"

His flurry of words only lasted about five seconds due to the speed of them flying out of his mouth.

I wasn't sure which question to answer first, so I said the most intelligent thing that came to mind.

"Uh… hi."

Sprat laughed and said, "Let's talk later, the bell's about to ring. Find me at lunch; I'll be with the rest of the scary looking crowd that everyone else is avoiding."

The bell rang and Sprat ran off. I found my way to my first period class and when questioned about my tardiness, I told the teacher that I was new here and I got lost. It wasn't a total lie…

The first half of the day went smoothly enough. I grabbed my lunch out of my locker and headed to the cafeteria. It didn't take me long to find Sprat and the rest of the "scary looking crowd". Around their table were four or five empty tables.

I approached the table and stood there awkwardly for a few moments, until Sprat noticed me and hopped up.

"Oh guys, this is, uh… What's your name?"

"Damian," I replied.

"Wicked name dude," said Sprat with a grin. "He's new here," he continued to the group.

A guy with silver hair looked up at me with a disapproving look on his face.

"So you just decided that we're all friends now? Don't we kind of get to decide that kind of thing?"

The girl sitting next to him punched him playfully in the shoulder.

"Oh, shut up Kristoff." She got up and held her hand out to me.

"I'm October," she said with a smile playing at her lips.

"Nice to meet you," I replied.

She nudged her finger toward an empty seat and Kristoff scowled.

"Come on, sit down."

I sat in the seat she pointed out and took out my lunch. The guy sitting across from me nodded at me and introduced himself as Andrew. I glanced across the room and spotted the goth kid I'd seen hugging the girl in pink this morning. He was sitting across from the girl and another guy who looked like Prince Charming.

"Who's that?" I asked Sprat, referring to the goth kid.

Sprat followed my eyes and looked at him.

"Oh, that's Vlad. Vlad Tod. He's cool, we hang out sometimes, but he sits with his girlfriend and his friend Henry at lunch… beats me how they get along. He's totally goth and they're complete preps. Really puzzles the mind…"

I glanced back at Vlad as he bit into his sandwich. When he bit into it, he looked… weird. Like the sandwich was the best thing he'd ever tasted in his life. I understand being relieved that it's time for lunch, but sheesh… It was almost creepy.

I tore my eyes away. What the hell was I doing, watching some kid I didn't know eat his lunch? I must be really screwed up, I thought to myself.

I finished off my lunch and threw away the bag. The rest of the day went by pretty normally, although I had to learn all my teachers' names, where everything is in the school, new rules, pretty much a bunch of new shit.

I walked the few blocks back to my new house and walked in the front door. I set my bag down on the couch and walked up the stairs to my room. I laid on my bed and stared at the ceiling for a long while.

Not bad for a first day.


	3. Heathridge Books

Sorry once again for the many months of waiting. It wasn't AS bad this time, but still too long. I'll try to update as frequently as I can from now on. This chapter is the last one before Vlad really comes into the story. Enjoy!

-Rixerx64

I stepped back and took a good look at my now three-year-long project. The black body of the 1971 Charger was dented and rusted, but it would hold up. The seats were ripped and flimsy, but comfort was secondary. Three flat tires, but air was abundant. No air conditioning- Okay, you get the point.

It was a piece of crap. But it ran… almost. I only needed one thing now- a small detail really; an engine.

Okay, so it's kind of a big deal. I'd find one. The only problem was, I had no money. My dad never gave me money for anything, I hadn't had a job since we'd moved to Bathory two months ago, and I had never been great at saving up.

So a real job was in order. That I could deal with.  
I unhitched my car from the back of the tow truck and pushed it up my driveway. The door opened with a squeak and shut with a groan. I got in, put it in park, and got back out, turning to the driver of said tow truck.

"Thanks Jack, I really appreciate it."

Jack was an old co-worker of my dad's that I got along with pretty well, mainly because he and my dad _didn't_ get along. He was about twenty-five or twenty-six, and had medium length, light brown hair that was always unkempt and greasy. He looked like he hadn't shaven in a few weeks, but didn't really care, or notice.

I'd called him a week ago, begging him relentlessly to bring my baby down here from the city. He had finally given in and taken a road trip to see me, and probably to get away from his wife.

"You'd better, kid. It wasn't exactly a little drive around the block getting here."

He took a look up and down my street, not looking very impressed. He looked at me seriously for a moment, before saying, "No offense kid, but this place looks like it fucking blows."

I smirked and replied, "It's got its ups and downs. Nothing really ever happens, but that can be good and bad I guess."

"You ever gonna get an engine for this thing, or are you just gonna keep it as a driveway decoration?" he said with a sarcastic tone, looking at my Charger.

"I'm working on it… I haven't gotten a job yet. There's not too many around here. And you know my dad doesn't give me a cent."

I heard a door open and close behind me and heard Jack mumble under his breath, "Speak of the devil…"

My dad stepped out of the house with a less than pleased look on his face. He'd always disliked Jack, just because he'd screwed up on one repair. That, and Jack had always been nice to me, which my dad hated.

"How's it going, Dean?" asked Jack innocently.

"Fuck off, Jack. What're you doing here? And why'd you bring that piece of crap with you?" he asked, speaking of my pride and joy.

"Damian asked me to bring it down, and I decided to take a trip down here to see your new town. It looks nice."

Of course, he was being sarcastic, but he didn't want my dad to know that. He had always tried to redeem himself after his mistake in the repair. But my dad didn't care if he was sorry or not.

"Just get the hell out of here," my dad said with a snarl.

"Fine." Jack turned to me and said, "Take care kid. And good luck getting that engine. Give me a call sometime, alright? And if you ever visit the big apple again, make sure you come and see me."

We shook hands and he turned, got in his truck, and left.

My dad didn't say anything, just glanced at my car and went back inside.

I sighed, and leaned against my car. I looked at the keys in my hand, and realized that they're virtually useless when the car they go to doesn't have a damn engine.

Suddenly motivated, I thrust the keys into my pocket, fixed my hair in the rear view mirror and headed into town, set in finding a job.

Three hours, and five failed attempts later, I came upon an old, abandoned- looking house. I would have sworn no one lived or worked there, except for the sign above the door that said "Heathridge Books" and there was a sign that said "Open" in the window.

I walked up the steps, and taking a deep breath, walked inside.

The interior of the store was pretty creepy. The floorboards creaked and everything looked at least a hundred years old. There was hardly any room to stand, almost every inch of the store was lined with bookshelves, filled with books. A wooden staircase led up to what must have been the rest of the house, but a "Do Not Enter" sign was posted on the wall next to the stairs.

A few people walked between the aisles of books, but there was no one standing at the clerk's desk. I walked up to the desk, and seeing an old fashioned bell on the counter, rang it.

A few moments later, a man who looked about four-hundred and seventy-four years old came down the stairs, with the assistance of his black cane. He was dressed as if he was born around the same time the house was built.

He wore a black tailcoat with gold buttons, and black top hat also sporting gold buttons. His black pinstriped pants and polished black shoes complimented the tailcoat and top hat well. There was an old metallic pocket watch dangling from his belt, and a scratched eye piece hung at his neck, waiting to be used.

"How can I help you, young man?" he asked, approaching me slowly.

His voice was deep, and had a slight British accent.

"Um, I was hoping I could get an application to work here, but-" he cut me off.

"How old are you?" he asked.

"Sixteen…" I replied warily.

"When can you start?"

"Uh, whenever, but-"

"Then you're hired. You'll work week nights except for Thursdays and Fridays, and you will also work Sundays. You will need to be here by 4:30 every day. And no shenanigans. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Mr... uh-" I realized that I didn't know his name, and he didn't know mine.

"I'm Andrew Heathridge, but you will address me by "sir" or "Mr. Heathridge". And your name is?"

"Damian Garroway," I said, holding my hand out. He shook it feebly and said, "Monday, 4:30 sharp. I'll be expecting you, Mr. Garroway."

"Thanks, for the job and everything," I said, heading for the door.

As I walked home, I contemplated whether or not it was a good place to work. I loved reading, yeah, but the Mr. Heathridge was pretty weird…

I mentally slapped myself. A job was a job, and I was desperate for money. I wasn't going to complain.

I walked up my driveway and before stepping inside my house, I looked back at my Charger. I had a job now, and before I knew it, she'd be up and running.


	4. The Crypt

Once again, I'm very sorry for the delay. Hopefully, each new chapter will come sooner each time. I ALWAYS appreciate reviews and criticism, and please, please, please, add my story to your favorites :)

Also, sorry for the lengthiness of this chapter, I had a lot to fit in!

-Rixer

I slowly slid the key into the ignition. Taking a deep breath, I rotated it to the right as far as it would go. The new engine sputtered for a few seconds, but the engine did not roar to life as I had hoped.

I looked toward the garage, and saw my dad standing there, a beer in one hand and the other limp at his side. He had a peculiar look on his face, somewhere between hopefulness and disappointment.

"Come on, baby," I muttered quietly to my car. I turned the key again, praying for the deep, satisfying growl of the engine. But nothing happened.

I decided to try it one last time, and then I would beg my dad to help me figure out what was going on.

I took another deep breath. In one, last, attempt, I turned the key it sputtered for a few seconds, and then it roared like a lion that had just woken up from a hundred years sleep, hungry, and angry.

I screamed at the top of my lungs and pushed the gas down, making the lion's roar even deeper and louder.

I shifted my newly operational car into reverse and backed out of the driveway and into the street. Pressing down on the brake and shifting into drive, I looked back at my dad. There was something on his face. Something I hadn't seen directed at me since my mom had died.

A smile. A small one, but still a smile, nonetheless.

I looked back toward the road and pressed gently on the gas. The car slid forward smoothly, but with a slight rattle toward the front. She had her kinks, but she ran, and most of all, she was mine.

I headed into town slowly, hoping that someone I knew would see me driving and come to question when I had acquired the glorious steed that I now sauntered around town in. However, my hopes were to no avail.

I arrived at the long driveway that lead to Heathridge Books and pulled into a parking space next to the old house. I got out of my car, making sure to lock the doors. I lived in a small town, but one can never be too careful.

I thrust my keys in my pocket and walked up the creaky wooden steps to the bookstore. The front door opened with a squeal, and a wave of the smell of old books hit me. It was kind of a bittersweet smell. I liked the refreshing smell of books, but the age of the books made them a tad bit musty.

The cool air conditioning came as a relief from the near-summer heat that was put off outside.

Mr. Heathridge greeted me as I came in the door.

"Good afternoon, Damian."

"Hey Mr. Heathridge. How's business today?"

"Oh, about the same. Thank you for coming in early today. I have some business that needs taking care of in Stockerton."

"No problem. I finally got my car up and running, so it won't take me as long to get here anymore," I said with pride.

He gave me an amused look and said, "Well, congratulations, young man. You certainly worked harder on your first car than most of the children in this town. I'll see you tomorrow then."

With that, he walked out the door and down the steps. I watched out the window as he got into his car and sped off.

It was funny, for such an old fashioned guy, his brand new BMW Z4 was pretty modern. And he drove FAST too.

I took my place behind the counter, opened up my book, and began reading.

"_I've lived for hundreds of years Anabelle, and I've never seen a woman as beautiful as you." _

_Edwardo looked deep into my eyes, searching for something he did not desire, but he found nothing._

"_Oh, Edwardo.. I want to see you sparkle."_

I made a noise of disgust and shut the book, placing on the counter next to me. It was really hard to find a decent book anymore.

The bell on the door rang, and I saw Sprat walking in, Pixie Stick in hand.

"Hey Sprat, how's it going?"

Sprat looked up and me and smiled. "Hey Damian, I was hoping you were here. Me, October, Andrew, and Kristoff were going to go to this sweet goth club in Stockerton tonight. You in?"

Goth club? I wasn't exactly goth, but it could be cool.

"Sure man, I just got my car up and running, so I'll drive!" I said, once again, with pride.

Sprat's jaw dropped. "That's totally awesome man! Andrew has a car, but… well, you've seen it. I'll tell everyone to be at the school by nine so you can pick us up."

Sprat's eyes dropped the book next to me. His face twisted into an expression of horror.

"Oh god. Don't tell me you like that Dawnlight crap."

I snorted and replied, "No way, man. I picked it up off the shelf, thought it might be interesting. I was so wrong."

He laughed, and his horrified expression evaporated, leaving the regular old gleeful Sprat.

"Vampires are totally awesome and all, but really? Sparkling?"

"Yeah, it's pretty lame," I replied with a smirk.

"Well, I'll see you at nine; I promise you'll have fun!"

And with that, he skipped out the front door and disappeared around the corner.

I sighed and sat back in my chair, wanting the next five hours to pass as quickly as possible.

Work was fairly busy, which made the time pass a bit more quickly. Eight thirty rolled around, and I ushered a few stragglers out of the door and began closing up. I didn't want everyone to be waiting on my late ass to take them to the club.

I finished closing up around eight forty-five. I set the alarm, and hurried out the front door, but not before locking it behind me. I picked my keys out of my pocket, and started up my car. It took a few tries, but it started up pretty nicely.

I backed out of my parking space, and headed for the school. I pulled up in front of Bathory High, and Sprat, October, and Kristoff were already there, waiting for me.

"Hey guys, how's it going?" I asked.

October admired my car as she slipped into the back seat.

"Sweet car dude! Better than Andrew's piece of crap."

Kristoff slid into the back seat with October, while Sprat occupied the passenger seat.

"Speaking of Andrew, where's he at?" I asked.

"Oh, he and Vlad already left for Stockerton. Vlad needed a ride, and Andrew is a wee bit claustrophobic, so he didn't want to be squeezed into a car with four other people," explained October.

"Oh, okay," I said, shifting into drive.

Sprat made a radio static sound with his mouth and said, in his best impersonation of a plane pilot, "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, this is your Co-Pilot speaking. We're looking at a smooth trip to Stockerton in a sleek and sexy beast of a car. Our estimated time of arrival is 9:01 at The Crypt Airport. If there is anything else I can do for you, just come on up the cabin and ask."

October smacked him upside the head and said, "Shut up, dork. Come on Damian, let's go."

I pulled out of the school parking lot and headed toward the highway.

The trip to Stockerton was pretty uneventful. We blasted some Metalcore, the preferred genre of the group, most of the way there. When music wasn't playing, October and Sprat would argue about music, accusing certain bands, or band members of being posers.

We finally pulled into the parking lot at the Crypt.

Sprat began his co-pilot act again, but a swift smack the head from Kristoff cut off his performance early.

I found a parking space, and we all crawled out of the car, stretching our arms and legs after the hour-long drive.

Sprat, Kristoff, and October walked ahead of me into the club. I followed them closely, not wanting to get lost. The inside of the club was decked out with a bunch of red velvet, as well as a lot of vampire stuff.

There was a bar without alcoholic beverages, as well as a lot of tables and benches for hanging out. Towards the back of the club was a large dance floor, and a few feet above that, a stage.

On stage, a few guys were setting up amps, drums, and a few microphones for the band that would be coming on momentarily.

I followed my friends to a bench, where we found Andrew and Vlad already sitting, along with a stunning girl with Raven black hair and skin like china.

October made the introductions to everyone who needed the introductions made. The black haired girl's name was Snow, and although I already knew who Vlad was, we'd never been formally introduced.

The band came on, and everyone rushed onto the dancefloor. The band was pretty generic, with heavy bass riffs, piercing guitar distortions shredding all over the fret board, a heavy double bass drum beat, and piercing screams from the man in front.

I moved with the music, and so did all the other kids on the floor. Soon enough, a mosh pit was started.

All the kids inside it were being thrashed and pushed around, having the time of their lives. I joined in a few times, but mosh pits had never really been my thing.

After the first band finished their set, everyone migrated off of the dance floor, back to their seats and to the bar.

I went over to the bar and ordered their special, a type of vampire energy drink. A girl around my age leaned up against the bar next to me, and ordered the same thing.

She was gorgeous. Her hair was mostly black as night, but in front of her eyes, as well as random spots throughout her hair, it shone a dark purple when the light hit it right. Her eyes were outlined in a thin layer of eyeliner, her purple lipstick matched her hair perfectly.

"Can I help you?"

I realized that the words had come from the mouth lined in purple lipstick. I also realized that I'd been staring at her for the better part of the last ten seconds.

"Oh, um, no, sorry." I quickly looked away, hoping to avoid further embarrassment.

She laughed and held out her hand to me. "I'm Luna, and you are?"

I shook her hand and said, "Damian"

She smirked and said, "Well Damian, is there a reason you were staring at me?"

My face turned bright red.

"Well, um, I just thought you were, you know, cute."

She giggled and covered her mouth with one hand.

"Well thanks," she said, taking her drink from the bartender.

"That'll be $3.50, miss," he said. Without missing a beat, I handed him $7.00 for both of our drinks. He took the money and handed me my drink.

Luna looked at me with a small grin and said a quiet thank you.

I awkwardly looked back towards my friends sitting in the bench, and as my eyes fell on them, they all quickly snapped their heads away from me, and pretended to be in the middle of a conversation.

"So, Damian, you want to sit down?" I looked back at Luna as she spoke.

"Oh, yeah, sure." We sat at a table for two a little way away from the rest of my group and drank our energy drinks.

"So, where do you live?" I asked, trying to get some kind of conversation going.

"Here in Stockerton. And you?"

"Well, I'm originally from New York, but I moved to Bathory a few months ago," I replied.

"Oh, so that's why the kids from Bathory were staring at you," she said with a giggle.

"Uh, yeah. I came here with them."

We finished our drinks as the next band came on stage and started playing. Everyone ran back on to the dance floor and started dancing once again.

We sat at the table awkwardly for a few moments, before she cleared her throat, looking right at me.

"Um, do you wanna dance?" I asked sheepishly.

"Finally!" she said with a long sigh. She grabbed my hand and pulled me onto the dancefloor.

The music was heavy, so we jumped around as the quick and heavy beat pounded on. I watched Luna as she jumped up and down. She had her eyes closed, and it was like there was nothing else in her world except the music. She was really gorgeous.

The song ended, and the band started up a slower song. I looked at Luna, only to find that she was already looking at me. I got closer to her, and she put her hands on my shoulder. I wrapped my arms around her waist and we began to sway with the mellow beat.

As the song went on, she laid her head on my shoulder and I pulled her closer to me.

The song ended, and heavier music took over once again.

Luna took her phone out of her pocket and checked the time.

"Crap," she said under her breath, "I have to be home soon. And it's a fifteen minute walk, so I have to get going."

"Don't worry," I said, "I can give you a ride home."

She gave me a small smile. "Oh, you have a car too? Well, I suppose I could use a lift."

I told October, Sprat, and Kristoff that I would be right back.

"Use protection!" Sprat whispered to me mischievously. I rolled my eyes and took Luna's hand as we walked out of the club.

The ride to Luna's house was quiet, except for the soft music that glided from the radio. Luna directed me to her house, and we pulled into her driveway. I opened her door for her and walked her up to her front door.

We exchanged numbers, and she unlocked her front door.

"Well, I had a great time tonight," she said, smiling at me.

I returned the smile. "So did I."

"Call me sometime," she said. "I'd really like to see you again."

"I will."

"Well, good night," she said, moving closer to me.

"Goodnight," I said, as I leaned in and kissed her purple lips.

The kiss only lasted a few seconds, but it was amazing, all the same. She gave me one last smile and slipped inside her house.

I sighed, her purple lipstick fresh on my lips.

I stepped down from her porch and got back in my car, heading back toward the Crypt. I parked my car out back and started walking toward the front door.

Out of the alley I heard a slight moan of pain and I slid my back against the wall. Slowly, I peeked into the alley.

It was Vlad and Snow. They must have been making out or something. Vlad was giving her a hickey on her neck or something. But… It almost looked as if Vlad was… drinking from her. He pulled away, and Snow fell into his arms as something shone inside Vlad's mouth. His teeth.

No, his fangs. He had fangs. And they were stained with blood. Snow's blood.

Vladimir Tod was a vampire.


End file.
